False Prophet
by Fayre Aiden
Summary: SEQUEL TO Bible Thumper! Vivian's back, and she's out for blood... GSR! FINISHED FIC!
1. Chapter 1

False Prophet 

Disclaimer: If I owned CSI or anything associated with it, I wouldn't feel the need to be writing this, now would I?

Spoilers: References here and there, but we've seen all the episodes by now, haven't we?

Summary: G/S, cause that's how it should be. **Sequel to "Bible Thumper,"** Vivian's back and is out for blood…

A/N: Special thanks to Kati Owen for yelling at me for the ending of the first… I might never have had the guts to follow in others' footsteps!

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Chapter 1

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Grissom awoke to feel Sara's nearly nude body tucked closely into his own. He let his hands drift and explore, softly so as not to wake her, just to be sure it wasn't another dream. He didn't have enough limbs, enough hairs on his body to count the many dreams he'd awoken from, only to find himself lonely and without her. He'd silently cursed himself for hurting her, for pushing her away so many times. It was torture how he could be so happy in these fantasies, then be so close to the real thing and be miserable every night at work.

Now, laying next to her and feeling her unconsciously wiggling closer towards him, he knew he wasn't dreaming. He enjoyed the feel of her against him, skin on skin. He reveled in his happiness, wrapping his arm protectively around her, remembering how they'd come to be here.

Three days ago, after catching Vivian Corinth, Catherine had insisted they take some time off for Sara to recover. She and the boys would cover court and overflow for the next few days, while Sara and Grissom took advantage of the vacation time they never used.

Grissom's mind drifted to other moments that had led them to this place. Sara touching his cheek at a scene, presumably to wipe chalk off his face… Grissom letting slip at the hockey rink that he thought she was beautiful… The two of them working on a scene when they didn't even need to speak to know what the other was theorizing, what others called "The Grissom and Sara Show"… Grissom sending her a plant to keep her from leaving… Sara dropping everything to come to Vegas the saqme day he'd asked her to help after Holly Gribbs died…

His thoughts were interrupted as Sara turned to face him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" she asked, causing the movie reel of memories to cease.

Grissom looked her in the eye as she smiled, pulling him back into the present he still wasn't convinced was real.

"Just thinking," he replied, giving her no insight into his thoughts.

Her smile faded as she broke eye contact to look at anything but his face.

"You'll never put down those walls, will you? I've tried… God knows I've tried to break through, even hide behind them, but…" She stopped, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Grissom wrapped his arms protectively, if not possessively around her, letting her sob into his chest, stroking her hair for comfort. When she'd finished, he pushed her back far enough to look deep into her eyes.

"I know what it's like to want to know someone inside and out. I know how frustrating it is when you can't figure them out, when they won't come out of hiding… I've been trying to figure you out for years." He paused before continuing. "But, Sara, if you know anything about me, you know that I've been building those walls for so long… It will take a while for them to fall." What he didn't mention was that with each tear that fell from her eyes, another section of his fortress crumbled, leaving him vulnerable.

He planted a kiss on her forehead and changed the subject, as much for his own self-preservation as for hers. "How 'bout some breakfast? I make a mean omelet."

Wiping her eyes, she looked at the clock. "It's six o'clock! Have we been sleeping that long?"

Nodding, Grissom unwillingly separated himself from her warmth and climbed out of bed. His clothes still lying in a heap on the floor, he pulled a shirt and some sweatpants on over his boxers and made his way to the kitchen, leaving Sara some privacy while she searched for her own clothes.

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When she came into the kitchen, Grissom already had breakfast cooking.

"One giant vegetarian omelet, complete with mushrooms, onions and peppers, on the way!" he said with a smile as she found a seat on a barstool at the breakfast bar. Sara smiled at his efforts to please her and let her mind wander, picturing life as it would be for the next few months.

She was brought back to the present when Grissom joined her at the bar, placing the sizzling omelet before her. As they ate, they talked about trivial things, including stories about people they used to know and weird tidbits of information they'd picked up over the years, both contributing a fair amount to the conversation, amazed at how much you can learn from the little things.

Their conversation was interrupted, however, when Grissom's cell phone danced across the nearby coffee table. He looked at it and chose to ignore it. When his house phone began to ring as well, the cacophony it caused brought them both to their feet.

"I'll answer the house phone," Sara offered, as Grissom got up to grab his cell.

"It's Cath," he said before flipping his cell open. "Grissom."

"They won't hold her!" Catherine said, clearly frustrated. "After everything that bitch did, they're letting her go!"

"Cath, slow down… Are you talking about Vivian Corinth? What happened to the journal?"

"Ecklie lost it! He took it to compare to a day shift case that he thought was similar, and now says that it was 'misplaced.' God, I'm going to kill him!"

"That was the only piece of convicting evidence!" Grissom checked his pulse, and then turned to glance at Sara as she spoke on a portable phone on the couch. He wasn't sure if the look on her face was shock or fear.

"I know! And now that bitch is going to go free because she never actually confessed on the tapes and she left no trace at the crime scenes. I've never hated the justice system as much as I do right now!"

"Cath, calm down… We need to get everyone who worked that case to the lab ASAP and figure out what can be done to take her down." With not so much as a 'goodbye,' he hung up and joined Sara on the couch with a plop, checking his pulse once more.

Glancing over, Sara chuckled dryly. "Is it up to 95 yet?"

Remembering that conversation from what seemed like ages ago, he glanced her direction. "110," he answered.

"You really are upset," she whispered, moving closer and brushing his cheek with the back of her hand as she had that night long ago, before leaning her head on his chest. "She's just going to keep hurting people, isn't she?"

He sighed and put his arm around her. "No," he answered. "We won't let her. We just need to regroup and go over what we've got to find out what we missed."

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No sooner did the crew arrive in the break room then did Grissom's phone ring.

"Grissom," he answered.

"Got a body for you at the courthouse," came Brass's gruff voice.

"Brass, our shift hasn't started yet…"

"You'll see why I didn't call swing shift when you get to the courthouse," Brass retorted. "Better make it quick. The media's already here."

Hanging up, Grissom turned to the crew.

"Duty calls… Let's go." Turning to Sara, he asked, "Are you sure you want to come? I understand if-"

"No, I'm coming, Gil. I won't let anyone else suffer at the hand of this false prophet. I'll make the bitch pay for what she's done."

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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They arrived at the courthouse to find a bailiff stabbed seven times, lying on the floor near the guilty chair. Written in blood on the wall behind the judge's seat were the words, "I'm back… Matt, 23 32 33."

"Why the bailiff?" Sara asked as the team got to work processing the scene.

"He looked like he was going to be sick when the crime scene photos were shown at Vivian's trial," Catherine explained. "He was so shocked, he broke Commandment number two…"

" 'Do not take the Lord's name in vain," they finished simultaneously.

Sara shook her head and heaved a sigh.

"What's wrong, Sara?" Catherine took her aside and touched her shoulder for comfort.

"Don't tell Grissom, he'll think I'm too emotionally involved… but I'm not sure how much more of this I can take… I thought I could handle it, but she's ruining lives. She knows all of us and how we work, and she's always a step ahead. She's twisted, Cath, and it's driving me crazy!"

"I know," Catherine replied, obviously sharing much of the same. "Look, why don't you follow the body back to Doc. Robbins. Find out the significance of the stabbings and look up the verse. That way you can help us figure her out when we get back to the lab with the evidence."

"If you find any."

Catherine cringed at the bitterness in Sara's voice. "There's always evidence," she reminded her stubborn colleague "and it never lies."

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"There's no doubt the stabs helped, but he died of asphyxiation."

Sara couldn't believe what she was hearing. She looked again at the body that lay on the slab in the morgue. They'd called Doctor Albert Robbins in early to see the body and it was clear graveyard's secret weapon would rather be back in bed, but he was curious to see what Vivian had done to this poor soul, after seeing the other victims.

"But you should have seen all the blood, Doc!" Sara cried. "He lost too much to have not died from exsanguination!"

"I'm sorry, Sara, but this man didn't bleed to death. He was suffocated, and then his heart exploded. He was stabbed first if that's any consolation, but he died from a lack of air. How did you say you found him?"

"Laying on his back, arms outstretched, in front of the guilty chair. Why?"

"Did you happen to notice where he was stabbed?"

Sara looked once again at the bailiff, studying each of the seven stab wounds. Realization dawned as she took in the whole picture. She ran out the door, yelling "Thanks, Doc!" as it swung shut behind her.

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"It's totally symbolic," she explained when the rest of the crew arrived in the break room. She spread the photos of the body out in front of them. "The bailiff took the Lord's name in vain, so Vivian suffocated him, drugged him so his heart would burst, and stabbed him with a round object in seven places. Obviously the stabbing and the drugging happened first, but she suffocated him just before his heart exploded. All these things happened in the same order as-"

"Hold it," Warrick interrupted. "Drugging and suffocation are not in the Bible."

"But crucifixion is," Sara pointed out. "He took the Lord's name in vain, so she reenacted a crucifixion."

"Why not just crucify him? Why go through the trouble of reenacting it?" Greg asked, clearly confused.

"Too much work," Nick cut in. "She's not strong enough to lift the guy and nail him to a chunk of wood."

"It's also psychological," Grissom continued the explanation. "She was probably thinking along the lines of the disciples. They wouldn't allow themselves to die as their Lord. If they were sentenced to crucifixion, they'd ask to be crucified upside down. They didn't think they were worthy to die on a cross. The bailiff may have been a believer, but he wasn't worthy of true crucifixion."

"Right, so Vivian totally controlled the death so that everything would point to a crucifixion, including the order of inflicting wounds," Sara finished. "She even took care to stab him in the same seven places as Christ was pierced. Like I said, it's totally symbolic."

"Okay, what about the verse?" Catherine probed.

Grissom reached for a Bible on the table near him, but Sara stopped him.

"I got that too," she said with a smile, clearly proud of herself. "Matthew 23:32-33. 'Go ahead. Finish what you started. Snakes! Sons of vipers! How will you escape the judgment of Hell?'"

"Kinda creepy." Greg shivered as he spoke.

"She's taking her anger at us out on others," Grissom observed. "I wonder if her pattern will hold."

"Sometimes I hate this job," Nick muttered, shaking his head.

"Sometimes we all do," Catherine agreed, remembering the last time Nick had said those very words on a case not so long ago.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Vivian laughed to herself. Lucky for her, the team hadn't found the bug she'd placed in the break room, so she was able to hear the entire conversation. She was proud of herself as she listened.

'Good,' she thought, 'I'm getting to them. Once I've worn them out, they'll all get exactly what they deserve. Heathens!'

As she started her car and drove away, she made her decision. It was time to let them know that her patience had run out, that there was a price to pay for interfering with God's work.

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Grissom hung up his phone and looked at the clock. It was only 12:30, yet he felt as though he'd been at work for ages. Granted, they'd started shift five hours early with a dead bailiff and a message from Vivian, which was enough to stress anyone out. On top of it all, Grissom had just gotten off the phone with the swing shift supervisor, asking for some help with overflow while day shift was busy being asses and graveyard continued their wild goose chase with Vivian.

Now Grissom got up to find out what was causing the incessant crashing that only made his headache worse. He followed the noise to Sara's workstation to find her angrily heaving items across the room in frustration.

"Sara!"

The sound of his voice, while enough to make her stop throwing things, did not save her from collapsing to the floor in convulsing sobs. He rushed over and fell to his knees beside her, pulling her close to try and calm her.

After a moment, he ventured to ask, "Sara, are you okay?"

"No!" she sniffled, rather more forcefully than he expected.

"Do you want to talk?" he tried again after another few moments.

"She's such a _bitch!" _she finally managed.

"Who?" he coaxed, though he knew perfectly well whom she was referring to.

"Miriam… Vivian," Sara corrected herself. "I've been working the databases, the victimology, the patterns, the symbolism, the suspect info, the verses, _everything,_ for three hours, since the group analysis in the conference room. I've gone over every angle a million times and still come up empty. I found nothing that we don't already know… Then I read the new one, and I just…"

Grissom straightened. "What new one?"

"She paged me and left a new verse. Here, I wrote it down." She got up off of the floor and walked to the table. He slowly got up to follow, feeling every bit of his age, and waited for a moment until Sara handed him a notepad on which she'd scribbled the reference.

"Jeremiah 19:11," he read out loud, taking the pad in hand. " 'This is what the Lord Almighty says: As this jar lies shattered, so will I shatter the people of Judah and Jerusalem beyond all hope of repair,'" he quoted, for once glad that he'd memorized so many verses as a Catholic.

"She's continuing with the Judah and Jerusalem analogy," Sara said softly, but with more venom than Grissom had heard in her voice in a long time. "She's saying-"

"She's saying that she has to break us up… that we're evil and we must be destroyed," he finished with a sigh, handing Sara a handkerchief as he heard another small sniffle escape before she exploded:

"That's what pisses me off! That twisted murdering bitch is calling _us_ evil! How is that possible? I know I've done terrible things in the past, but-"

"Sara, don't even think it! You're a beautiful person. Remember that! Think of all the things you've done, and then think of what she's done: nothing. You're so much better than her in so many ways! If you let her get to you, then you're letting her win. Forget her and look again. This is what you're good at!"

Sara looked up at him in shock. She'd never heard so many compliments from him in such a short amount of time. Knowing, however, that he'd be extremely self-conscious if she said anything, and not wanting to break this sudden emotional connection, she simply nodded, and with a smile of thanks, handed back his handkerchief and started cleaning her workstation before diving back in.

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Over the next three days, the team worked tirelessly to locate Vivian and bring her down. Working together, they went over every piece of evidence they had, which, considering the status of the case was not much. To no one's surprise, it was Sara who brought things together.

"I got it!" she called as she ran into the conference room with a map and a notepad. Scanning the map onto the computer and asking Nick to flick the lights, she projected her findings for all to see.

"I believe we're all familiar with the layout of Las Vegas, Sara," Grissom sighed.

"We're all familiar with the scenes, too, Grissom, but we never connected the dots," Sara retorted. "First victim, commandment number one, killed in his home in downtown Vegas."

As she rattled off info, she highlighted the corresponding scenes on the map.

"Second vic, killed in his home near Henderson. Third vic, killed in his home near Laughlin. Fourth vic, our bailiff, was killed in the courthouse, not far from here."

"What's that other dot, there in Vegas?" Greg asked, earning him an elbow nudge from Nick and a glance from Warrick that said to shut up and listen.

"My apartment." Sara's eyes glazed over for a moment, lost in thought, but she quickly shook her head, as if shaking away the terror of that night, and forged ahead, focusing on the task in front of her.

"Look at the pattern of locations," she said firmly.

"Long, tight spiral," Catherine observed.

Grissom's eyes narrowed in thought. Glancing in his direction, Warrick chuckled.

"Watch out, guys… Grissom's got that look."

Smiles and giggles filled the room, but Grissom's train of thought never strayed from the tracks.

"Finish the spiral, Sara," he said slowly, his eyes staring unblinkingly at the projection. "Connect the dots… What's in the middle?"

The laughter died down and the smiles faded as they all watched the computer finish the spiral, the final point landing in central Vegas, right on the lab.

"Log in the addresses of everyone on this team," he demanded, hoping his hunch was wrong.

One by one the homes of the crew were typed into the database, and one by one crew members' heads dropped as their homes appeared along the spiral.

"Her path of destruction," Warrick sighed.

"She planned this all along," Grissom said heavily, getting up to pace the room. "The verse was jus the beginning. She's trying to wear us down."

"What verse?" Nick asked, straightening up to hear this new tidbit.

"Jeremiah 19:11." Sara quoted the verse for the rest of the crew. "Think about it. Vivian knew she couldn't get away with it in Vegas. We're the second best crime lab in the country, right behind the FBI, who has made no attempt to help, by the way. Vivian knew that when she got caught, she couldn't be held. She didn't leave enough evidence, even for us. But, she also knew that we'd keep coming. We enjoy a challenge and we don't give up. Now we've figured her out and she has to get rid of us before we nail her."

"Nice layout," Catherine said quietly.

"Okay, so she's already hit you, Sara… Who's next?" Greg looked to her for the answer to the question she was sure was on everyone's mind.

"She didn't hit in any specific order… I don't know… it could be anyone."

At that moment, each member of the team jumped as his or her pager went off. After looking at his own, Grissom glanced over at Catherine's.

"Same as mine," he mused.

Warrick's head snapped up. "Dan 5 25?"

Several glances around the room confirmed that they'd all just received yet another message from Vivian. Picking up his Bible and flipping through the Old Testament, Grissom stopped at Daniel and, reminding them all of story times in better days, read to the group:

" 'This is the message that was written: MENE, MENE, TEKEL, PARSIN.'"

"In English?" Nick asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"No, Greek," Grissom stated matter-of-factly.

"Let me rephrase," Nick retorted. "What does it mean?"

" 'Mene' means numbered. 'Tekel' means weighed. 'Parsin' means divided."

"Our days are numbered. We've been weighed and we fail the test. For her to win, we must be divided." All eyes turned to Sara to see her staring at the map, the familiar "quiet-but-pissed" look on her face. "She's gonna break us down, one by one."

Seeing panic and concern sweep the room, Grissom stopped his pacing and leaned forward on the table to give out orders.

"Sara, keep working on those patterns. You can work in my office. You won't be bothered there. You're the best we've got, so make it count. Nick, you and Warrick go over possible focal points for Vivian. There are six of us… Guess how many commandments are left?"

"Perfect." Nick flashed a sarcastic smile Grissom's way. "Just perfect. She really did plan this out."

"Get going. The sooner we crack this, the sooner it's over. Catherine, you show Greg how to work the databases. Find out how she worked in New York and Miami. Look at victims, locations, communications with authorities, and anything else you can think of. We may have to make a few phone calls."

"What about you?" Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to look at verses. There's a story here and I'm going to find it."

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Five hours later, Warrick went looking for Grissom. It was almost the end of shift, and he and Nick had come up empty. Checking out the remaining commandments, they could only match one to a member of the team: murder for Sara. No surprises there, but nothing for the rest of the team and they were running out of ideas. Now, Warrick headed for Grissom's office, hoping to catch him on the way out with any suggestions.

"Hey Griss, we got squat!" Warrick called as he knocked and opened the door in one swift motion. "Nothing on the Ten-"

He stopped short when a figure popped up from the couch gasping for breath.

"Sara? … Is that you?" Warrick headed for the couch. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed a moment later, her breathing slowing now. "Bad dream, I guess."

"Sara Sidle _sleeping?_ I don't believe it!" he teased, grabbing a chair from in front of Grissom's desk and placing it so he could face her.

"I don't know what it is." She shared a smile with Warrick before shaking her head. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Hey, you can't be too hard on yourself. Maybe you're catching up," he cooed soothingly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "After all that's happened lately, it's really no surprise. Plus, we've been up three straight days working this."

"Which I can usually do standing on my head, Warrick!" she said, exasperated.

"Hey, hey, cool it. Look, did you get some rest while you were at Grissom's?"

Sara cocked her head. "Wait, how'd you-"

Warrick laughed. "When Brass and Catherine called Grissom's house and cell phone the other day after court, you picked up the house phone remember? Not to mention, he drove you in to work right afterwards."

She winced. "Yeah, I forgot about that. Okay, yeah, I slept, but mostly that was from the medications I was…am…on. For the pain. But even that doesn't excuse falling asleep on the job, literally."

"Chin up, girl. Cut yourself some slack." Getting a smile from her, he asked, "Now how far did you get with your patterns?"

"Not very far."

Blushing, she picked up her papers and map from the floor beside the couch. The spiral that she'd discovered earlier was highlighted.

"I got as far as labeling every scene, red for the first four vics and yellow for the crew, all with names and other vital info."

"Why is yours in green?"

Warrick watched as her eyes dropped.

"I'm the only one who's been attacked that's survived."

Silence passed between them for several moments.

"Sara?"

Both Sara and Warrick looked up and were startled to see Grissom standing in the doorway.

"Can I speak with you please?"

Sara wasn't sure if Warrick saw the pleading eyes behind Grissom's otherwise emotionless face, but she did. Knowing how important it must be for him to show even that much, she nodded.

"All right, don't push me. I'm going," Warrick chuckled, putting the chair back in its proper place. He patted Sara on the shoulder, whispering, "Take it easy," as he made his exit, closing the door behind him.

Sara smiled. "What's up, Grissom?"

"Did you find anything?"

She hesitated before answering, "No, not yet." Looking deeper into the eyes that kept betraying him, she asked, "How much did you hear?"

He hung his head and smiled a bit. "Most of it, I'm guessing." His face turned serious when he looked back up at her. "Sara, why didn't you say that you were tired?"

Now it was her turn to smile. "First of all, you wouldn't have believed me. I never sleep, remember? … But, that's not why you came in here, is it, Grissom?"

His eyes fell to examine the pattern of the tiles on the floor, avoiding her knowing stare. "Sara, I think you should find somewhere else to stay for a while."

He huffed the words out in one breath, as if getting it out quickly would somehow reduce the pain. When he finally chanced a glance upward, he saw that he was wrong, as her papers all fell to the floor and a look of hurt and betrayal crossed her face before she covered it with her all to familiar look of stone.

The sadness that had flashed in her eyes prompted Grissom to explain. "For safety reasons only. Vivian has made it clear that she's out to get every one of us now… If she finds you at my house, she'll think it's a two for one and I won't have anyone get hurt just because I'm being selfish."

She dropped her gaze, struggling to figure out the many possible meanings of another one of Grissom's double entendres, trying desperately not to look as crushed as she felt.

Not being able to stand her silence and obvious confusion, Grissom searched for an excuse to leave. When none sounded good enough, he simply hung his head and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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It was normal for members of the team to not come into work on their days off or when they were sick, but everyone at the lab knew better than to play hooky. So when Greg didn't come in the next night and no one had heard from him, the rest of the crew began to worry.

"I know that it's Greg, but what if something happened to him?"

"I wouldn't go that far yet, Sara. Not until we know for sure that he's not just hiding out somewhere. He was kind of freaked out about the idea of Vivian coming after us," Nick reminded her. "He's still in training. He hasn't seen or experienced a lot of what we have."

"Just to be sure, why don't you call him, Nick?" Catherine suggested. "Sara, go check out the usual places he hangs out, including Jackie's area. Warrick, I know it's a stretch, but talk to Brass. See if he knows anything."

When the "kids" had left on their mission, "Mommy" decided to talk to "Daddy."

"What happened, Gil?" she shouted as soon as the others were out of earshot.

"How the hell should I know what happened? He could be anywhere!" Grissom shrugged his shoulders as if to prove his innocence.

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it, so don't play stupid with me! You know that never works! You won't even _look_ at each other, let alone _talk_ to one another. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing! I simply told her that it would probably be a good idea for her to find somewhere else to stay for safety reasons."

Catherine sighed her what-were-you-thinking sigh.

"What did I do now?" Grissom asked dejectedly.

"Grissom, when she was shot, you wouldn't leave her side for a second. When her apartment burned and she came back from the dead, so to speak, you took her in when she had no where else to go. You've let her know that you care, and as strange as it sounds, you let her in. Now, you've kicked her out, and I'm thinking that she feels like she's been either betrayed or completely rejected." Catherine felt as though she were explaining something to a five-year-old.

"How could she fell betrayed?" Grissom near shouted, exhausted and amazed at how much brainpower it took to figure out Sara. "I just want her to be safe! That doesn't mean I love her any less!"

"Gil, did you ever stop to think that maybe the safest place she knows is with you?" Catherine shouted back.

"Cath, I can't find-" Nick started from the door.

"Not now!" Catherine yelled as she turned and slammed the break room door in his face.

Turning back to Grissom, she continued. "Gil, you can only do this so many times before she leaves for good!"

"If she's so sure that she's been betrayed and rejected, then why doesn't she just leave?" The bitterness in his voice scared Catherine. "God knows she's thought of doing just that who knows how many times." He plopped down in a chair, holding his head in his hands.

"More than I can count, but thinking isn't doing, Gil." Catherine sat in the chair beside him, wondering how he could be so emotionally inept.

"Did you know she got offered a position at the FBI? In their forensics lab?" she asked, softer now.

His head snapped up. "When?"

"Three years ago. Obviously, she turned them down."

"That's the best lab in the country—hell, in the world. Why would she turn them down?"

Catherine scoffed. "And lose the chance to have the one man she's ever truly loved? You don't know her as well as I thought. Gil, she loves you more than anything, and has for years. We've all seen it, time and again. I don't know why you haven't figured it out. She stayed because of _you _and she kept the letter to remind her of that. She keeps it in her purse. I've seen her pull it out several times over the last three years."

Grissom sighed. "Really?"

"Really. She keeps it to remind herself that she chose to stay here, that she wanted to stay here."

"But why? Why would she choose this place over the best the world has to offer?"

"Because I have family here."

Catherine and Grissom turned to see Sara standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. Grissom looked her in the eye, wondering how long she'd been standing there, not having heard the door open, but knowing better than to say anything. The look on her face was all business.

"And right now, it's not looking too good," she continued after a moment's silence. "This family is in trouble."

----- ----- -----

When Sara finally led Catherine and Grissom back to the conference room, it was evident if only by the looks on the others' faces that something was wrong.

"We can't find him anywhere," Nick told them. "Brass put out an APB for Vivian and has given out information on Greg in case anyone spots him."

"I found this on his locker." Sara held up a small piece of paper with some scribbling on it. "I looked up the verse, and…"

Grissom took the paper from her and read. "Jeremiah 48:7. 'Because you have trusted in your wealth and skill, you will be taken captive.'"

"Oh, God," Catherine sighed, falling into a chair.

A similar felling passed around the room. The team may have thought Greg annoying, but he held a place in each of their hearts. Always eager to help, he balanced out the seriousness of the rest of the team with his youth and energy. Now, an unsettling silence and a deep feeling of loss filled the room, similar to when the crew had lost Holly Gribbs, as they all took in the endless possibilities.

The silence was broken when Grissom suddenly called out to the others. "We need to check his house."

"What?" Warrick finally managed to speak.

"We need to check his house, his car, the lab, the locker room, anywhere he could have been when he was taken. Maybe there's some clue as to where he is."

"But he could have been anywhere," Sara whined.

"Then we better get going."

With that, their fearless leader was out the door.

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	6. Chapter 6

----- ----- -----

Chapter 6

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Splitting up, the team took on the search with a renewed vigor. Working as thoroughly as ever, all five remaining members of the graveyard family, along with some outsiders from swing shift, searched everything Greg owned for some kind of sign as to his whereabouts.

After their last search, they all gathered outside Greg's front door to try and figure out what to do next.

"I say we go back to the lab and sort out what we have," Nick exhaled noisily. "I know it's not much, but if we put it together with what we know, maybe we'll get something."

"Where's Warrick?" came Sara's obviously concerned voice from one of the nearby SUVs.

Team members looked around when he didn't answer.

Just then, one of the newbies from swing shift spoke up.

"He saw something he wanted to collect and told me to go ahead when you called us all out front. He said he'd be right there." Though answering Sara's question, the tall and lanky young woman addressed Grissom.

"You left him alone?" Nick cried, rushing to the back of the house where Warrick had been working. When he got there, Warrick's kit was laying open on the ground next to a shoeprint he'd been processing. In a way, it was kind of fitting; Warrick always said it was all about the shoeprints.

As more of the team came up behind him, Nick put on a glove to pick up a white rag laying a few feet away.

"It's not like Vivian to leave evidence behind," Grissom said, looking on.

"Smell it, Griss. It's doused with something. Could be chloroform." Nick passed off the rag, hoping for some explanation as to what was happening.

"Well, this accounts for how she may have been able to subdue them," Grissom proclaimed. "She drugged them. Okay, there's nothing else here. Let's get back to the lab. Maybe we can get some DNA off of that rag."

"Sara, what tipped you off that Warrick was gone?" Catherine asked.

"This." Sara held up a small piece f paper similar to the one found on Greg's locker. "I found it on the Tahoe. Proverbs 28:20."

Since the renewal of Vivian's antics, Grissom had taken to carrying a small pocket-sized Bible with him for just such moments as this. He pulled it out now and turned to Proverbs.

" 'The trustworthy will get a rich reward. But the person who wants to get rich quick will only get into trouble.'"

"She's no targeting us for what we're dong. She's targeting us for what we've already done!" Catherine cried incredulously, realization dawning.

"Grab Warrick's stuff and let's get out of here," Grissom called. "We've got work to do."

----- ----- -----

"We've been doing this all wrong!" Nick cried. "She expected us-no, she _wanted_ us to continue following the original pattern… And we fell right into that trap! That's why Warrick and I came up empty."

"That's also how she knew she could pull it off… She's an expert at this." Catherine had gone back to sonme of the databases she had been showing Greg and was now projecting her findings for all to see. "On the left in New York. On the right is Miami."

"Long, tight spirals. Just like Vegas," Nick observed.

"Right." Catherine maximized pictures of the CSI crews in both cities. "The only difference is that the CSIs in those cities didn't go missing. This is a whole new ball game… I think we need to make some phone calls."

"Okay, Cath, you talk to Miami. You're already familiar with them. Sara, you talk to New York. Talking patterns with them will be easiest for you." Grissom rubbed his temples as he delegated the tasks.

"What about me?" Nick asked.

"You need to cool your jets. Get started on Greg and Warrick's stuff in the lab."

----- ----- -----

"Caine," came the familiar voice of Catherine's favorite Miami colleague.

"I seem to have lost my tan in the last two years," she said with a smile, wondering if he remembered that conversation. "And my boss has cut my vacation time… You wouldn't happen to know any place I could get one in Vegas, would you?"

"Catherine Willows. I should have known I hadn't heard the last from you. Chasing another runaway you need our help with?"

It was clear to Catherine that Horatio Caine, and probably the rest of his CSI team, hadn't lost this laid back style.

"Well, we hard core CSIs here in Vegas could probably use a few of your 'fanciful' theories right about now, if only to lighten the mood," Catherine said heavily. "We do need your help, though, and in a bad way."

"Okay, who's flying where, and when?" he asked, realizing that the time for friendly pleasantries was over.

"Actually, no one's flying anywhere this time. We need information. We've got a crazy woman who thinks she's talking to God. She's killed four people, including her court bailiff, and now she's kidnapping CSIs."

"Vivian Corinth," Horatio broke in knowingly. "She blew in here like a hurricane."

"I know. That's why I'm calling. We need to know everything we can about her as quickly as possible. We have no idea what she's doing to Greg and Warrick, and she's made it clear that she's out for the lab and the entire crew."

"What do you need to know, Catherine?"

"Did she hold any patterns when she hit Miami? Anything that determined any kind of order?"

"Every person she it fell upon a spiral-"

"Same here. Long and tight-"

"With the lab at the middle," they finished simultaneously.

"She sent us verses by letter and pager to warn us about divine punishment. She also talked to us by phone," Horatio continued.

"Us too. She wanted to get across the point that she was enforcing God's law. That's why she left verses at the scenes." Catherine recalled that first phone conversation in the conference room.

Horatio sighed. "Unfortunately, we missed that until about number seven. She didn't contact us until number six, and by the time we pulled it all together, she'd left her epicenter, giving us absolutely nothing. She's good, Catherine."

"I know. That's what scares me. We've already caught her once, but she never confessed or left enough evidence to truly convict her. So, they let her go. Then our only piece of evidence tying her to the crimes got 'lost in the system' by our dayshift supervisor."

"Ouch! What was it?"

"A journal. She kept entries of all the victims here in Vegas, including one of our CSIs that she was planning to, and almost did, kill."

"She actually went after one of your CSIs?" Horatio sounded shocked.

"Yeah. She set Sara's apartment on fire. We didn't see her again for three days… We thought she was dead."

"Wow. Gutsy move. Well, we got a journal, too, with details of all of her victims in Miami. It looked like a continuance."

"Probably from New York. Horatio, would you mind sending that journal overnight?"

"Sure. I'll send the prints we got off of it and copies of the phone conversations, too. Maybe they'll help."

"See, I knew there was a reason I liked you! Thanks. Tell the rest of the team I said hi."

"Sure, no problem, Catherine. Tell your boss I said you need more vacation time. Sasha says hi."

" 'Kay. Thanks again. Bye."

----- ----- -----


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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When Catherine arrived back in the conference room, Sara and Grissom were waiting for her, sitting on opposite sides of the table.

"Where's Nick?" Catherine asked warily, feeling the tension in the air.

"Still in the lab," Grissom said straightening, obviously ready for a report. "What's going on in Miami?"

"Horatio says I need more vacation time," she sneered, a smile in her eyes and tugging at her lips.

Grissom's eyes narrowed in frustration. "Anything else?"

"The Miami lab is sending us their taped conversations with Vivian and the journal that she kept there. They found it when they raided her place."

"New York is doing the same. Mac said they got a journal, too."

As the others turned to listen, it became clear that Sara was directing her words exclusively at Catherine.

"He said they caught on late to the verses," she continued. "Vivian didn't contact them right away and seemed disappointed that they didn't immediately understand her point. However, fortunately for us, she got sloppy in New York. She let slip that she liked to be near the water. Mac and his team found a cabin that she used to store everything used in the murders. Chances are, she's done the same in Miami and Vegas. If we can find them, we can nail her in all three cities."

"Great. Let's go find Nick and share the good news. Maybe he'll have some for us, too."

Catherine rose halfway through her sentence and made her way to the door, holding it open for the others. Following them down the hall to the lab, she added silently, 'Maybe Nick can figure out what's up with these two.'

----- ----- -----

Not finding him in any of the labs or layout rooms, they asked Jackie if she'd seen where Nick went.

Jackie shrugged. "He said he wasn't feeling well. He went out for some fresh air."

Sharing worried looks, they thanked Jackie and rushed to the parking lot, Grissom calling Nick's cell phone on the way. When they reached the parking lot and still couldn't find him, Sara called his pager.

"Who's pager's beeping? I turned mine off." Catherine followed the sound towards Nick's car. Her shoulders fell when she saw what lay on the ground beside it.

"What is it, Cath?" Sara came up behind her to see Nick's pager buzzing across the asphalt, a white cloth nearby.

"No! Nick knows better, he wouldn't…" Sara trailed off as the tears started to come, this blow being the straw that broke the camel's back. She dropped down to sit on the curb, pulling her knees to her chest.

Catherine and Grissom watched as her body racked with sobs. Though not entirely surprised at Sara's reaction to her best friend's disappearance, it had been a long time since they'd see her openly show her hurt at work.

Catherine backed off as Grissom sat beside Sara, trying to comfort and calm her. As she looked around for anything that might indicate Nick's whereabouts, Catherine's eyes fell upon a small piece of paper tucked in the wiper blades of Nick's car.

"Uhhh, guys?"

They looked up to see her holding the piece of paper in the air with a gloved hand.

"Proverbs 14:17," she read.

" 'Those who are short tempered do foolish things, and schemers are hated,'" Grissom quoted.

Silence fell between the group as they thought of Greg, Warrick, and now Nick in the hands of a pissed off serial killer.

"So, now what?" Sara managed between sobs.

"Now we stay together. We work in the lab as a team, on all we have until we find the place where this sadistic bitch is and what she's done to our family."

Now it was Sara and Catherine's turn to be surprised. They looked at Grissom in shock, seeing the anger that had boiled over as his eyes flashed the steely gray that warned his patience was at an end. Never had they seen him show this much emotion, though they both laughingly called him their best friend. Readying themselves for an emotionally, if not physically, draining day, they followed a seething Grissom into the building.

----- ----- -----

It's never easy doing one's duty, but Vivian took comfort in knowing that these blasphemous sinners were getting their just reward. Not only would they burn in Hell, but God was giving her the pleasure of sending them there.

Bent over her many books and papers before her, Vivian's thoughts were interrupted by several continuous grunts from behind her.

"Nicky, if you don't stop pulling on those chains, you're going to hurt yourself," she called without looking behind her. "You know, you should follow your friends' example. They've resigned themselves to their fates… They gave up hours ago."

She turned to glance at her captives' faces. Greg was laying on the cold basement floor as close as possible to Warrick, who was chained just a few feet away, facing Vivian with a look of disgust and anger in his eyes. Nick, defiant to the last, stood a few feet from Warrick, desperately pulling at the chains that held him to the wall.

It hurt Vivian to have to do this, to watch them suffer in their sin, but she was keeping them alive for her grand finale. She'd use these six as an example to the rest of the world, showing them the consequences of sin.

"What do you think?" she asked the boys. "I've been working on the next few and I can't decide which verse works best for your friend Sara. Let's see… Should I use 'Pride goes before destruction and haughtiness before a fall.'?" That's Proverbs 16:18, by the way. I like it but I don't think it conveys the point. What about 1 Samuel 2:3? 'Stop acting so proud! Don't speak with such arrogance! … He will judge you for what you have done.'"

She paused to see the anger and otherwise indifferent looks turn to fear for their sister and friend.

"No," Vivian smiled, "I think you're right. Too harsh. But don't worry. I've got one more that I think will be perfect. Isaiah 2:11-12. 'The day is coming when your pride will be brought low and the Lord alone will be exalted. In that day the Lord Almighty will punish the proud, bringing them down to the dust.' I like it," Vivian smirked, clearly satisfied with her findings. "It's the perfect balance of warning and foresight."

She twisted back to her workbench and grabbed her purse. Turning to the boys before leaving, she cooed, "Don't worry. Sara will be fine…for now. No, Catherine will be joining you next. She needs a little break. This case is more taxing than she's letting on."

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

----- ----- -----

"Catherine!"

She sat straight up in her chair, momentarily unaware of her surroundings. Looking down, she saw her research spread before her on the break room table. Turning, she watched as Sara rushed over from the doorway and took the chair next to her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Catherine sighed. "I guess this whole situation has just worn me out. I need to go home."

"Hey, I understand, trust me. Even I could use some sleep." Getting a smile from Catherine, Sara continued. "But right now, we need to hang out here. Never alone, remember?"

"Yeah. I just feel like it's been forever since I've been home, and Lindsey—"

"Lindsey will be fine! She's with your sister, right?"

Catherine nodded.

"No worries then. Look, give her a call. It's not that late, she'll be home from school by now, and she'd probably love to hear from you. It'll make you feel better, maybe even boost your energy and give you something to work with."

Smiling, Catherine stood. "Thanks, kiddo. Look, I know we haven't always gotten along, but—"

"Yeah, I know, I know! So, call your kid already!"

"Alright! But first, I gotta pee! You're not going to follow me in there, are you?"

"Ewwww! No!"

Laughing at Sara's funny face, Catherine clapped her on the shoulder and headed in the direction of the restrooms, leaving Sara in a giggle fit that could be heard down the hall.

----- ----- -----

Catherine was in such a daze, she didn't even remember the drive home. All she could think of was Lindsey and making sure her daughter was safe. She drove with such purpose, she didn't realize she was 15 over the speed limit the entire drive to her sister's. She was so focused on getting to her daughter, she didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. But when she got inside, she sensed danger before anything else.

"Lindsey?" she called.

Silence answered her.

"Lindsey?" she screamed, pulling her weapon.

"Mommy!" came the muffled cry from another room.

Catherine made a mad dash for the family room to find her sister and nephew Jeremy huddled in a corner and Lindsey in the hands of the woman wreaking havoc on her world.

"Let her go or I'll shoot!"

Vivian merely smiled and placed her knife closer to Lindsey's throat.

"Drop it, Catherine. You don't really want to kill someone in front of your daughter, do you?"

"Mommy!" Lindsey sobbed.

"I said let her go, Vivian!"

"Really, Catherine, don't force my hand. You know, I usually find children a few years older than—Lindsey, isn't it?—to fulfill number four, but I could make an exception."

There was a loud thud as Catherine's weapon hit the carpet.

"Don't hurt her, please," she pleaded. "I'll do anything. Just don't hurt her."

Smiling wider, Vivian picked Lindsey up and walked to the door in one swift action, calling for Catherine to follow. Glancing at her sister with a look that said, "I'm sorry," Catherine hurried to her daughter.

When they got to the car, Vivian shoved Lindsey into the back seat and climbed in next to her, telling Catherine to climb into the driver's seat. But before she pulled away, Vivian stopped her.

"Wait," she said with a sinister smile. "You're going to leave the message. Get out your beeper and cell phone. Leave yourself this message: Jer 2 33-34a, 35b."

When Catherine had left the message, Vivian instructed her to toss the pager out onto the grass strip next to the driveway.

"Gently, now. We don't want it to break," the bitch crowed. "Now, get us out of here."

"Gladly," Catherine sneered, peeling out of the street, leaving good tread marks behind her.

'I hope this works,' she thought, taking a last look at what was left of her life shrink into the distance of her rear view mirror.

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	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

----- ----- ----

"Hey Griss," Sara called. "How you coming on Greg and Warrick's stuff?"

"In the interest of time, I'll skip the details, but Greg was taken from the locker room as originally thought. Shoeprints and a well-hidden white rag confirmed it. All three rags were doused with the same chemical."

"Let me guess: chloroform."

"Good guess. Confirms that all three disappearances were linked."

"Which we already knew."

"Right." He paused before asking, "Where's Catherine?"

"Direct quote: 'I gotta pee. You're not going to follow me in there, are you?'"

Grissom shook his head.

"For future reference, that was probably more than I needed to know, Sara."

"Hey, you asked." She crossed her arms across her chest, feeling slighted. "Grissom, what did I do to piss you off?"

Grissom blanched. "What are you talking about?"

"You're mad at me. I can always tell when you're mad at me, and right now I'm definitely getting that feeling."

Heaving a sigh, he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I'm not mad at you, I just—"

The buzzing of Nick's pager cut him off, as it skittered across the lab table. Grissom grabbed a glove and read the print out.

"V has C & LW. #4. En route. CW."

Grissom heard a smack as Sara's fist hit her forehead.

"All she could talk about was Lindsey! I shouldn't have let her out of my sight… She tricked me!"

"Get in the Tahoe, now!" Grissom ordered, pulling her by the elbow and grabbing their vests and weapons on the way out to the car.

----- ----- -----

When they pulled out onto the road, Grissom asked, "Where was Lindsey? Where did Catherine want to go?"

"Her sister's house. That way," Sara directed him.

He turned on the little flashing light and didn't worry about the speed limit, causing Sara to cling to the seat.

"Do you have the GPS for her beeper chip?"

"Yeah, just a sec." Sara dug in her field kit in the back seat. Finding what she wanted and bringing it forward, she fiddled with the buttons until it displayed the information she needed. "It says she's at her sister's."

Pulling up to Catherine's sister's house a few minutes later, Sara jumped from the car. Using the GPS to guide her, she walked toward the end of the driveway.

"100 feet…" she called. "50 feet… 30 feet… 20 feet… She's right here! 10 feet…" She stopped.

"Damn it! Grissom her pager's laying here in the grass. Wait… There's a message… Jer 2:33-34a, 35b." Looking up, she watched Grissom pull out his mini Bible from his kit and read the verse.

" 'How you plot to win your lovers. The most experienced prostitute could learn from you! Your clothing is stained with the blood of the innocent and the poor. … Now I will punish you severely because you claim you have not sinned.'"

"That's not true! Damn her! God! She took the one thing she knew would make Catherine fold: Lindsey. Then she had her leave her own verse." Sara stood stock still for a moment, staring at the ground in mourning for her friend. Suddenly she took off her ID badge and hurled it at Grissom, shouting "That bitch! She's breaking us apart, and she knows it!"

"Sara, stop!" Grissom picked up her badge and came to calm her. "This is just what she wants. Don't give her the satisfaction. Now, think. Catherine's last message said 'en route.' En route to where?"

As if in answer, Sara's pager went off.

"Cabin 108, Lake Meade. CW," she read. "She likes to be near the water! Duh!"

"Get back in the car!" Grissom called as he dashed for the driver's seat, Sara scrambling after him.

"Follow those treads! Catherine's pulling another 'Finger.'" Sara pointed to the long set of skid marks.

"I know, Sara. I see them. Call Brass. We need him to be there with us. Then call O'Riley and tell him to get some uniforms over to Catherine's sister's house to check on things. Tell him to bring in swing shift to help. Then you get me Catherine's cell phone on that GPS!"

Grissom drove wildly to the other side of town toward Lake Meade, hoping and almost praying that they'd get there in time. Thoughts and pictures of the crew played in his head like a movie reel, but he drove them from his mind, forcing himself to focus on the road. Only one thought remained:

'We're coming, guys. Hang on."

----- ----- -----


	10. Chapter 10

----- ----- -----

Chapter 10

----- ----- -----

Nick, Warrick, and Greg sat up at the sound of three sets of footsteps above them, one quicker and lighter than the others, making their way to the basement stairs. They watched in silent anticipation, wondering who it was that would next come down those fateful steps.

Their spirits fell when they saw Catherine pushed ahead by Vivian, who was dragging Lindsey behind her. Shoving Catherine aside to wait by Nick, Vivian pulled Lindsey to the other side of the basement and opened the door to a small cage, which looked just large enough for a small dog kennel. Lindsey was crying.

"No!" Catherine shrieked, getting up from her fall and running to her daughter. But she was stopped when Vivian delivered a powerful backhand, causing Catherine to fall back, hitting her head on the hard concrete floor. While she lay motionless, Vivian finished locking Lindsey in her cold metal prison, then dragged Catherine to her own space beside Nick, chaining her like the others.

"That wasn't very smart, Catherine. If you would only use your God-given brain, you'd realize that there are still two more that must join you before punishment ensues. Note to self," Vivian sighed to herself as she walked to her desk. "Never assume that the implied is understood."

Instead of going back to her research, she decided to set up for her finale. 'Better now than later,' she thought. She liked to think of herself as always being prepared, so she began setting up a video camera near a large pole in the center of the room, a set of knives and other torturous instruments laying at its base.

Once finished with the camera, she leaned down to inspect her weapons. Pulling out a knife first, she was disappointed when it barely left a mark on her skin.

"Can't have a dull blade, now can we?" she asked, an innocent look on her face as she smiled at the team, who were all scooched over as close as possible to a now silently weeping Catherine.

Taking the knife to a grinder by her desk, Vivian started the process of sharpening the blade, filling the room with the sound of stone against steel. With her focus solely on her task, Vivian shut the world out of her mind, oblivious, if even for a moment, to all around her…

----- ----- -----

"Hello, Vivian."

Vivian turned from her task and was shocked to see Sara Sidle standing ten feet away with a gun pointed at Vivian's heart. Gil Grissom and Jim Brass stood behind Sara, their weapons drawn as well.

"Surprised to see me?" Sara asked, cocking her head.

"A little," Vivian answered truthfully, backing slowly towards the dog kennel. "But then, you always were the smart one, weren't you, Sara?"

"Don't move," Sara warned in an icy tone. "I'll shoot."

"Oh, are you sure?" Vivian asked with a haunting smile. "I don't think you will. You can't ethically take someone's life, can you?"

Sara clicked the safety off and cocked the gun.

"I will shoot you, Vivian," she said strongly, realizing that she was trying to throw her off.

"Drop your weapon and fall to your knees!" Brass called out, cocking his weapon as well.

"Okay." Vivian complied, setting the knife down beside her and dropping to one knee.

Sara inched her way forward, gun still at the ready, but not seeing Vivian's hand reach back to unlock the kennel door.

Just as Vivian had expected, as soon as the latch was undone, Lindsey shot out like a jackrabbit and ran to her mother, providing just enough distraction for Vivian to jump forward, knocking Sara's gun from her hand and putting the knife to her throat.

"One move and Sara dies!" Vivian shouted. It was clear that she was desperate, but not scared shitless. She knew she held power right now, which made her all the more dangerous.

"Stop, Vivian. You're smarter than this," Grissom coaxed, leaning down to set his weapon next to Sara's on the floor.

"Gil, don't," Sara started, but Vivian held the now razor sharp blade tighter against her throat, drawing blood and shouting, "Shut up!"

Although having faced near-death experiences before, at this point Sara couldn't takeit anymore. Everything that had happened in her past, from her abusive childhood to recent events and the deterioration of her relationship with Grissom, she was clearly coming to realize that life had used her as a shithole. It was time to use that to her advantage. Resolved to her fate, she looked at each of her colleagues in turn. Her emotions never showed so clearly as they did at that moment as her pleading eyes locked with those of Grissom, standing just a few feet away.

'I'm sorry, Grissom.' Her eyes told the story. 'Please forgive me… I love you. Goodbye.'

At that moment, she yelled, "Jeremiah 14:15," before jerking an arm back and turning her body as if to face off with her assailant, the blade slitting her throat as she did so, blood spattering all over Grissom and Brass. Her elbow caught Vivian in the stomach, making her double over to catch her breath as Sara fell to the ground and lay motionless.

----- ----- -----

"No!" Grissom cried, rushing to her side. Leaning down he brought her head up to his lap, elevating the wound to slow the bleeding, all the while calling her name. "Sara? … Oh, God! Sara…"

"Shit!" Brass muttered, picking up his walkie. "Dispatch, this is Jim Brass. I need backup and medics now! Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Suspect fighting back!"

Seeing Vivian come at Grissom, Brass called out a warning, knowing he'd never be able to handle her himself. He rushed to the team members chained to the wall. Reaching Warrick first, he shot the locks on the chains, releasing him.

"Go help Griss!" he shouted while moving to Nick.

Warrick's legs felt a little wobbly, having not used them for at least 24 hours, but once he regained his balance, he ran like the wind to wrench Vivian away. He pulled her off of Grissom by the arms, twisting them behind her back, but she fought loose and turned on him. A combo of weaponless combat and street brawling ensued, combining Warrick's past and present. It was clear by the use of his training that the CSI wanted to be civil about this, but the streetwise tough guy Warrick Brown, which had presented itself on a previous case in his old neighborhood, was showing through and it was just as clear that he wanted Vivian to pay for what she'd done.

Once the others were free from their bondage, Nick ran to help Warrick, showing his Texan roots as he tried to help take her down, while Greg rushed to the sidelines, helping Grissom pull the already injured Sara away from the action. By now Brass was shouting onto the radio, asking where the hell was his backup while ushering Catherine and Lindsey up and out of the basement.

Meanwhile, the fight to subdue Vivian had grown ugly. The three had moved toward the center of the room and Vivian, having lost her knife, had switched for a whip, thrashing wildly at her attackers. Nick took a stripe on the arm before managing to wrestle the weapon from her, kicking the others away as well.

When Brass's backup finally arrived, the brawl was ended as nightsticks came down upon the instrument of their torment. Backing out of the chaos, Nick and Warrick exchanged battle wounds.

"You all right, man?" Nick asked, seeing Warrick rubbing his jaw but watching the medics attend to Sara.

"Yeah, she's got one hell of a punch, though. She clocked me!" Warrick nodded back at Nick. "How 'bout you?"

"She took a chunk out of my arm with that whip, but I'm good," he replied, rolling up a sleeve to assess the damage.

"Guys, come on! Follow the ambulance to the hospital. I'm going with Sara," Grissom called from the top of the stairs.

"Let's go. You drive." Nick tossed Warrick the keys before rushing up the stairs, holding his arm as he went.

----- ----- -----


	11. Chapter 11

----- ----- -----

Chapter 11

----- ----- -----

A sense of deja vú filled the air as the group sat in the waiting room at the hospital. Yet somehow, this time was worse. This time they had all been there. They'd all witnessed helplessly as Sara had willingly sacrificed herself for the rest of them, all to bring Vivian to justice. They'd all experienced and faced near death with Vivian, some more than others, but none as closely as Sara. Now they waited in worried anticipation to learn the fate of one of their own.

Three hours after they'd arrived, a doctor came through the emergency doors and headed their way. "Dr. Grissom?"

"Yes?" Grissom stood to address the doctor, worry and fear uncharacteristically shining in the eyes of a typically expressionless face.

"As you know, Ms. Sidle suffered severe lacerations on her throat. The good news is that they missed her carotid artery. The bad news is, whatever did this to her sliced her voice box. She won't be able to speak for quite a while."

Grissom hung his head. He understood all too well the frustration of not being able to communicate. His mother's deafness and his own hearing problems had proven difficult enough. He couldn't imagine not being able to speak.

"Mr. Grissom?"

"Yes, I'm sorry." Grissom looked back up at the doctor, his face now hard as steel, betraying nothing.

"I was saying that Ms. Sidle is a very lucky woman, even after all that's happened. She lost a lot of blood. She had to have a transfusion. For the long run though, she'll be okay."

"Can we see her?" Grissom asked, breathing a sigh of relief, having not realized he'd been holding it in.

"Yes. Actually, she asked for you. She's been in a private room for the last 15 to 25 minutes stabilizing after surgery. She woke up and after we explained her situation, she wrote her request on a notepad from the nightstand. She specifically asked for you."

Grissom turned to see the rest of the group listening earnestly and staring up at him. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking for permission.

"Go," Catherine said, pushing hair back from Lindsey's sleeping face, then looking up at him. "She needs it as much as you do."

"Yeah, man," Nick smiled. "You saved your damsel… Don't leave her hanging now!"

The group nodded their assent.

Grissom gave a small but rare smile and whispered a sincere "Thank you" before following the doctor back to Sara's room.

----- ----- -----

Another small "Thank you" eked its way out as the doctor opened the door to Sara's room, then left. Grissom walked in, closing the door behind him. An eerie silence filled the room as he made his way to her bedside, all the while feeling her eyes upon him. Once seated, he looked up to see her sad smile set upon an otherwise pale and almost lifeless face.

It cut Grissom to the core to see her like this. The bandaging and gauze on her neck was extensive. The sparkle was gone from her eyes. Her hair fell unruly and disheveled on her shoulders. The hospital gown did her no justice whatsoever, hiding her beautiful figure under its formless folds. She held a notepad and pen in her lap and it was clear that she had something on her mind.

"Hello, Sara," he managed with an even tone, dreading the questions to come.

'Is everyone OK?' she wrote.

"Yes, everyone's fine. They're all out in the waiting room, feeling much better now that they know _you're_ all right. Catherine has developed a severe separation anxiety from Lindsey, which, under the circumstances, is understandable. Warrick's okay, but Nick took a swipe on the arm from Vivian's whip. The doctor said he'd look at it soon. Brass went back downtown with Vivian, but made it here about a half an hour ago. Greg… well, Greg won't talk to anyone. I think he's just really freaked out by the whole thing, especially since he was with Vivian the longest out of all of us."

'What about you?'

"I'm fine," he shrugged. "Relieved, frustrated, but mostly just glad that it's over."

Sara cocked her head, then scrawled, 'Frustrated?'

Grissom sighed. "For you. I know how hard it is to feel isolated by communication. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Sara nodded in understanding. A moment later, she scribbled another message.

'I have a question…'

"Okay… I might have an answer." Despite his light tone, his muscles tightened as he expected the worst.

'Where did you learn to sign?'

Grissom was surprised; this wasn't at all what he'd expected. Stunned into a response, he replied, "My mother taught me… Why?"

'Tell me about it.'

She looked at him intently, waiting for a response.

He wasn't sure why he decided to answer. He'd flat out refused to tell her when she'd asked three years ago during a case. But, somehow, he found it slightly easier to tell her now.

"My mother became deaf when I was eight. Otosclorosis. It's genetic. I had the same issue. I asked her once if it was hard being so isolated, so different. I couldn't understand how she could accept it as gracefully as she did… She told me…" He paused.

Sara prompted him to continue with a hand on his shoulder.

Sighing, he said, "She told me that she wasn't different. She said she was blessed."

He looked at the floor and seemed lost in thought.

Sara watched him, wondering what he was thinking, realizing the love he had for his mother. She'd heard a warmth in his voice when he talked of her. She wondered if she could ever find such a place in his heart.

She started scrawling something else on the pad. Tapping Grissom's arm when she was done, she watched his brow furrow as he read.

"You want me to teach you to sign?" he asked incredulously, looking up at her.

She nodded and started writing again, scribbling furiously for a few moments before handing him the notepad, her hand shaking a bit.

Grissom took the pad and read the note written on the bottom, in what others would have called chicken scratch, but what he had simply come to know as Sara. It read:

'I didn't even expect to be here right now. I'd made my peace. But since I am here, I'll still have to work and frankly, there's no other place I'd rather be than with all of you. The doctor said I won't be able to speak until I'm fully healed and that could take months. I'll need to communicate somehow. I can't keep using notepads; think of how much that would cost the department! Help me make up for all the wrongs that have led me to this place.'

His head snapped up when he finished reading, just in time to see Sara wipe away a tear. Dropping the pad, he sat on the side of her bed and enveloped her in his arms. For the next several minutes, he simply sat and held her, rocking her a bit, as his walls came tumbling down.

Sara just fell into him, weeping silently, feeling safe and secure in his arms. Grissom didn't know her past, didn't understand the wrong of which she spoke, but he stayed. He cared, and that was all that mattered to her.

He tilted his head and whispered in her ear, "Of course, I'll teach you. We'll start as soon as we get home."

Home. It sounded so natural.

Home. Where they could continue on this new path they'd forged and live out the new life that beckoned them.

Home. Where love awaited them.

----- ----- -----


	12. Chapter 12

----- ----- -----

Chapter 12

----- ----- -----

Six months later, the cold November air swept in from the desert, tugging at the dark, navy windbreakers worn by the forensics crew as they came in from various cases to end shift with a celebration. Catherine and Nick arrived first in the break room.

"You think they've figured it out?" Nick asked as they blew up a few balloons and set a cake on the table.

"Nicky, they may be great CSIs, but the case they've been working on is a doosy! They've been so busy lately with leads to follow and doctor's appointments, they have no idea what's going on, trust me!" Catherine smiled before blowing up another balloon and setting out the refreshment plates and sporks.

At that moment, Warrick walked in with Brass on his heels.

"What's up?" the CSI asked, setting some crepe paper down on the table. "They here yet?"

"Look around, buddy. What do you think?" Nick flashed a sarcastic smile at his friend and tossed a trash bag his direction.

"I just hope day shift doesn't get wind of what you guys are doing," Brass said. "They'd wreak havoc on you guys."

"Well, guess what? Day shift can piss off!" Catherine spat. "They can tell Carvallo anything they want, and if Carvallo tries to do anything about it, we'll all quit on the spot, 'cause Grissom and Sara aren't going anywhere."

The other team members nodded. It was a decision they'd made when their whole ordeal had ended. They knew blame would be settled somewhere, but they also knew that this team, this family, was the reason Las Vegas had the second best lab in the country. Carvallo couldn't hope to keep up that record without them.

Suddenly, Greg burst in, having run from across the lab.

"They're…coming!" he managed, through gasping breaths. "They're in…the…parking lot."

"Okay, Greg-o," Nick said, taking charge. "You go meet them and bring them in. Just say that you have something to show them. Oh, and Greg?" Nick pointed at the boom box in his hand. "If that's anything other than classical, jazz, or Pink Floyd, you can drop that back off in the lab. We are not listening to Nine Inch Nails."

"Awww!" Greg whined. "Come on!"

"No! Now, get going. Quick!"

And, with that, Nick flipped the lights and closed the door.

----- ----- -----

"SURPRISE!" 

Sara's face lit up as she saw the rest of the team pop out from the dark break room. Her gap-toothed grin and a look of surprise from Grissom told the team that they'd done a good job. They hadn't seen those faces in a while.

"What's all this for?" Grissom asked, looking at all the balloons and at the cake on the table.

"We're having a party, Gil," Catherine smiled, pretending that she was explaining something to a child. "You know, a party… A social gathering for fun and celebration?"

"Catherine, I may be socially inept, but I do know what a party is."

After the laughter died down, Grissom continued.

"I meant, what are we celebrating?"

"We're celebrating Sara getting those bandages off! She's almost completely healed. That means she'll be able to talk again soon. Don't you think that's worth a celebration?" Nick asked with a smile, giving Sara a gigantic hug.

"Of course it is… I just wasn't expecting-"

"We know. That's why it's called a surprise party!" Warrick piped up from the corner, moving in for his own turn with Sara.

"We're also celebrating your six month anniversary. Want some punch?" Catherine asked innocently.

"What? How did you-?" Grissom stammered.

"Oh, come on! Even I've noticed that you two have been inseparable," Brass crowed. "Sara hasn't bothered to file a change of address since she moved in with you after the fire, plus you two always come in and take cases together. It wasn't that hard to figure out!"

'Hey, don't I get to say anything?' Sara signed, trying to get everyone's attention.

Since Sara had gotten out from the hospital, the crew had learned tidbits of sign language from conversations, but for the most part, still needed Grissom to translate. He and Sara had gone to classes at the deaf college to become more fluent, and ever since, it was not uncommon to see them having their conversations, or even arguments, with their hands. Now they all turned to "listen" to Sara as Grissom interpreted.

'Thank you all so much. You have no idea what this all means to me. You've all been so patient with me, and I love you all the more for it. But there's something I need to say… Soon, Gil and I will have to go on leave for a while.'

"Why? After everything that's happened, you're not leaving?" Greg asked, suddenly looking very worried.

A similar look of worry and panic swept the room as the group awaited an explanation.

Sara looked at Grissom with a smile.

'Should I tell them? Or do you want to?'

'It's up to you,' he signed back with a smirk of his own.

'I think they should hear it from you. It would give it more meaning, and might explain some things.'

"Hey! Hello? Still here… Don't leave us hanging!" Nick called, waving his arms to get their attention.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Warrick asked, his brow furrowing in suspicion.

"We're not leaving," Grissom said, putting up a hand to calm them. "It'll just be for a few weeks in March. We'll be back… I, uh…"

His pause earned him an elbow nudge from Sara and a look that said, 'Go on, and tell them.'

"You what?" Catherine reinforced the prompt to continue.

A blush rose to Grissom's cheeks as he nearly whispered, "I've asked Sara to marry me."

Suddenly it seemed like a dark cloud had lifted as looks of worry were replaced by surprise and sheer joy. Catherine jumped out of the chair she had plopped into and ran to Sara, pulling her into the biggest hug possible. Sara's gap-toothed "Sara smile" showed itself as she and Grissom were bombarded with hugs and pats on the back.

"Oh, my gosh! Are you serious?" Catherine cried, pulling back far enough to see Sara's face.

Sara nodded vigorously and held out her left hand to show a beautiful princess cut diamond on a simple silver band sitting gracefully on her ring finger. The team gathered round to stare in awe and disbelief.

"Take a look at that rock!" Warrick exclaimed.

'Grissom wanted me to have the best,' Sara signed, smiling.

"Damn, it'll be good to hear your voice again," Nick laughed. "Grissom, translation please."

"I've told you a thousand times!" came a voice from the doorway. "At seven am, your shift ends. NOW GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BREAK ROOM!"

Heads turned to see Conrad Ecklie seething, a few of his CSIs standing behind him.

Sara's smile changed to a scowl as she walked towards Ecklie. Instead of speaking to him, however, she addressed Greg.

'Greg, go back to your lab and grab your boom box. This party is now worthy of Nine Inch Nails.'

When Grissom had translated and Greg ran to go fill the request, Ecklie simply smiled.

"You know," he sneered, "I'm really going to miss the quiet that's settled around here for the last—six months, isn't it? It's too bad. I was really started to enjoy it."

The dayshift CSIs behind him snickered at Ecklie's comments, while graveyard simply glared, intense hatred in their eyes. Catherine pushed forward to say something, but Sara turned and shook her head.

'We're better than that,' she signed.

Greg had come back by now. Sara looked his direction and nodded, at which point loud rock music began blaring from the speakers.

"You can't play that in here, you smug ass punk!" Ecklie yelled over the music at Greg.

At this point, Sara lost it. Ecklie could insult her all he wanted, but when he attacked her friends, that was too much. She stormed back to the boom box and turned off the music before marching back to Ecklie and punching him square in the jaw. She punctuated her point with a gesture that you didn't need to know sign language to understand, and then managed in a weak whisper, "Piss off, Ecklie." With that, she slammed the door in dayshift's face.

Sara turned to meet a round of applause from her friends and shocked smiles all around.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Warrick laughed. "I can't tell you how long I've waited for someone to really tell him off!"

'Well,' she signed, color rising to her cheeks, 'he had it coming. Greg may be weird, but he's not a smug ass punk. Ecklie had no right to call him out like that. At least Greg earns his pay.'

"Hey, come on. This is supposed to be a party, remember? Greg, turn the music back on. Catherine, will you help Brass cut the cake, please?" Grissom asked, trying to liven things up again.

When the others went back to the party, Grissom turned to Sara.

'You are in big trouble, missy!' he signed, a mischievous look in his eye. 'The doctor said no talking until you're completely healed… I distinctly heard a whisper!'

Getting a smile from her, his face turned serious.

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, I guess. He just pisses me off! He's an ass and he doesn't deserve his job.'

'I know, but that's not for us to decide. We are the reason this lab is at the top, not them, and if Carvallo wants to keep Ecklie around for the politics, then that's fine by me!'

'Speaking of Carvallo, what's he going to do when he finds out we're engaged?' A worried look crossed Sara's face as she signed.

'Sara, who cares? Screw Carvallo! He needs us here, and if he tries to break us up, the others have already threatened to leave. Besides, we swore to ourselves that this was for us and nobody else, remember? I love you.'

'I love you, too.' She signed the formal three-word phrase before pulling him into a hug, resting her head on his chest.

He took one of her hands in his own and started rocking from side to side.

"Dance with me," he whispered.

----- ----- -----

Catherine tapped Brass on the shoulder and nodded toward Grissom and Sara, making him smile.

"You know, they really are kind of cute together," he chuckled.

"Yeah, they are," Catherine sighed. "I haven't seen them this happy in a long time… I guess all things really do happen for a reason."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know Grissom. It always did take a crisis for him to realize how much he cared for someone. I guess it took seeing Sara willing to sacrifice her life for us all for it to really sink in. I mean, did you see the look on his face when she tried to fight off Vivian with a knife to her throat?"

"Yeah, I remember," the detective captain sighed. "He was really hurtin'."

"Now, he wouldn't let her go for all the world. You said it yourself; even you've seen a change in him, and you're just as socially inept as he is!"

"Hey!" Brass lifted a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt before a smile took over his usually stern face.

"Baby," Catherine smirked. "But, really, he's been nicer to everyone, he's been more laid back, even a bit more open… It's made things so much more pleasant around here, with the tension gone."

"Yeah, I hear ya'. I just hope it works out for them," Brass said, making his way past Greg, who was playing air guitar, over to Nick and Warrick.

Catherine just sat and watched her best friend.

'He deserves to be happy,' she thought. 'After waiting so long, he deserves it.'

She grinned as Grissom leaned down to kiss Sara, soft as butterfly wings but still deep and passionate, his hands drifting to her waist. Sara lifted her arms around his neck, taking in the moment and deepening the kiss.

Catherine smiled as she got up and joined the others in conversation, leaving the couple to live in the moment. The love revealed in that one instant showed them all that anything was possible, giving them hope that one day, they might all be that happy.


End file.
